


Everything

by cheerios_and_wine



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aromantic, Asexuality, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other, Post-Apocalypse, Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23305054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheerios_and_wine/pseuds/cheerios_and_wine
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley discuss what has changed since the apocalypse-that-couldn't.This is pure self-indulgent fluff.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56





	Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cheesecloth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheesecloth/gifts).



> Cheesecloth, thank you for all your delightfully fluffy works! They've brought me so much joy! Here's something for you. 💚

"Isn't it strange? How nothing has changed?" 

Outside the bustle of Soho nightlife begins as the evening fades to darkness. Inside the bookshop quiet has settled with the dust over the shelves and knick-knacks. Scattered, teetering stacks of books threaten to collapse, held in place by one angel's distinct certainty that they most definitely _will not_ fall and ruin his precise categorization.

Said angel is currently settled in his favorite armchair, a book in hand and cocoa waiting for him, hot and ready, at his side. Across from him a demon sprawls over a sofa, lanky limbs spread haphazardly, a glass of wine dangling dangerously from two fingertips. They sit together as they have so many evenings before in this bookshop in Soho, comfortable in their patterns, content to expect many more nights exactly the same as the world continues spinning, unaware of its near destruction.

Aziraphale shifts in his chair. He looks at Crowley and closes his book, leaving one finger between the pages to mark his place. He regards the other with a thoughtful expression. "Oh, I disagree. I think everything has changed," he says after a moment.

"Is that so?" The corner of Crowley's mouth quirks up, a curious half-smile. "What's changed then, angel? All seems the same to me. The humans are doing all their usual human-y things, and here we are, drinking in your shop, same as always. We're no different than we were before the whole mess with the Antichrist."

"But we have changed, my dear," Aziraphale says, smiling now, full of warmth, joy crinkling the corners of his eyes and delight shining from the upturn of his lips. "Don’t you see? I'm no longer afraid." 

"Oh," Crowley breathes. He's unable to say anything else for a moment. His eyes — wide, golden, and unguarded — gaze at Aziraphale, drinking in the unspoken affection. It's true, Aziraphale appears entirely unafraid, holding the demon's stare rather than glancing away. So much happiness radiates from him he might actually be glowing a bit around the edges of his soft corporation. 

None of the hesitancy of eons past remains. No more watching over shoulders, or circling for protection. No more need for codes or doublespeak. There's just love, steady and present. Love, forged in 6000 years of _Hello there_ and _Fancy meeting you here_ and _I'll do that one_ and _I'll get used to it_ and _Little demonic miracle of my own_ and _Temptation accomplished_ and _To the world._ Love without limits or expiration dates. 

Clarity strikes Crowley and he sees all at once that they could spend every evening for the rest of their eternal lives sitting together in the backroom of a dusty bookshop and it wouldn't be the same at all. It will never be the same because they're free now. The future stretches before him and it's filled with love, it’s overflowing with the freedom to look and talk and touch without any fear. They’re on their own side now and everything has changed.

"Yeah, yeah I see that," Crowley murmurs. "'M not afraid either."

Aziraphale is still watching him with that smile and Crowley grins back. He’s somehow giddy with excitement but still so relaxed, feeling cozy and safe with the best person he’s ever known.

The angel tilts his head and Crowley can see a question forming before he opens his mouth to speak. “Oh, I don’t suppose — that is, I mean, is there anything you wish to change? Is there anything new you would like to do now?”

He considers this for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as he swirls the wine in his glass. What had brought on his first question anyway? He’d been musing over how funny it was that life was carrying on none the wiser, thanks to Adam’s bravery. And with Hell and Heaven finally off their backs, the two of them could do anything they want now. So what does he want?

He looks back to Aziraphale. “Just this, angel. Just want to be here with you.” He swallows, sure his face is red. He's not accustomed to stating anything about his feelings so frankly. “What about you?”

“There is one thing I would like to try, if you are not opposed.” Aziraphale has a slight blush of his own.

“Well, go on then. Spit it out.” Crowley says, a bit smug at seeing him flustered.

“May I touch your hair?” Aziraphale blurts out.

Crowley’s mouth drops open just a little. “Ngrk. Er-yeah, yeah, that would-” he clears his throat. “That would be nice.”

“Nice, hmm?” It’s Aziraphale’s turn to smirk.

Crowley sits up on the couch and twists away to hide his embarrassment. “Well, are you going to come over here or are you just going to laugh at me?”

It only takes a couple seconds for Aziraphale to leave his book on his chair and settle into the sofa beside Crowley. Careful hands wrap around Crowley’s shoulders and draw him gently down into his lap. The demon stares up at him, overwhelmed at the sudden closeness.

“Is this alright, my dear?” Aziraphale asks. There’s a slight worry line in his brow and the only thing Crowley wants is to see that disappear.

“Yeah, I think this is a good-” he chokes a little, “a good change.”

The answering smile that graces his angel’s face is brilliant, and exactly what he wanted to see. He closes his eyes, and relaxes fully into the soft lap cushioning his head. Fingers brush his scalp, then drag slowly through his hair. He gives a contented hum.

“You know, there’s another change I’ve noticed,” Aziraphale whispers. 

Crowley makes the verbal equivalent of a question mark.

“You leave your glasses off more often now. I like it. I’ve always loved seeing your eyes.” One stroking hand caresses his forehead, then grazes down one cheek. 

Crowley cracks his eyes open, unable to resist the request hidden in the confession. Aziraphale’s blue eyes are full of awe as he takes in the gold ones below him. Crowley feels naked under that gaze. Aziraphale can see all of him, but he doesn't mind the exposure. He's laid bare and there's no safer place to be so revealed.

“I’ll leave them off around you more, then.” He covers the hand resting on his cheek with one of his own.

“I’m glad.” They’re both smiling again. That’s new too — the frequency with which they smile now. It comes so easily.

“Any more changes you’re looking for, angel?”

“Mmmm, not now. Perhaps we’ll discover new things to try later. This is all I want now.”

“‘S all I want too.” His eyes drift shut again as the hands resume their petting through his hair.

Everything has changed, and they couldn’t be happier. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
